


We Move in Measures

by weepingnaiad



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bones is a good Dad, Community: cottoncandy_bingo, Family, Gen, Jim and Bones left space to raise Joanna, Jim's a great stepdad, Joanna's all grown up, M/M, Prom, in-verse AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joanna's senior prom is coming up, but thanks to Jim, instead of being a disaster, it all turns out perfect in the end.  And, if, along the way, Len figures out how to let his little girl grow up, all the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Move in Measures

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** As ever, abigail89 checked this over for me. Thanks, hon! I do fiddle even after posting, so any mistakes are all on me.

"Bones! It came!" Jim's shouting through their apartment and Len can't help smiling at his exuberance. No matter how many years it has been, Jim's zest for life never fails to perk Len right up.

"What did, darlin'?" Len asks as he stands to see what all the fuss is about.

Jim's already at the door to Len's office before Len steps through. He's holding a box from Universal Express and Len can't for the life of him figure out what it could be.

Jim knows Len too well because he's shaking his head and smiling at Len "It's Jo's prom dress."

Len blinks. "In that box?"

Jim nods.

"Wait a sec. When did y'all order her dress?" Len starts to frown. "If this is one of those 'inspired by Betazed', so help me --"

"Bones," Jim cuts him off. "It's not. It's practically _virginal._ "

"Practically?" And Len doesn't growl. Well, not much, anyway.

Jim shakes his head, eyes bright, and smile too damn fond. It makes Len wonder, and not for the first time, how in the hell he'd caught and kept this ridiculous, wonderful man.

"So, show me," Len says, indicating the box.

"What?" Jim replies, voice going high on the end. He puts the box behind his back. "No way!"

"Jim…"

"There's no way you're seeing it before Jo-Jo, Bones," Jim says, rolling his eyes just like Joanna. And for a moment Len can't figure out who's more mature: Jim or Jo.

"Jo hasn't _seen_ the dress?" Bones asks, brow furrowing.

"She's seen it. Just hasn't _seen_ -seen it."

"What the--?" Len is completely lost now.

"We ordered it from Rigel IV, so she's only seen projections."

"Why? Weren't the stores in town good enough?"

"Pfffft. Too much risk of someone else turning up in the same dress."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Jim!"

"Bones. Bonesy. _Babe._ Senior prom is a big deal."

Len eyes Jim with suspicion. "Just _whose_ prom is this anyway?"

"It's Jo's. But we've only got one shot here. It's gotta be perfect."

And Jim's voice is so earnest, his expression so intent, Len is struck dumb for a moment. After Jocelyn had passed, Jo became Len's top priority -- his _everything_ \-- but Jim made Jo his priority, too, giving up command to settle on Earth for Jo and Len.

Len reaches out and tugs Jim into his arms. He can't resist that hopeful smile on plush lips. Jim melts into Len, head tipped in anticipation, and Len just stares into his husband's eyes drawing the moment out until he can no longer resist the pull between them. Their lips meet and Jim sighs, wraps his arms around Len's waist as they deepen the kiss.

When they pull apart, Jim rests his cheek on Len's shoulder, lips hovering just there by his neck, breath brushing the short hairs above Len's collar. Len tightens his arms and they cling for a bit. He isn't sure if Jim is waiting him out, or if he's waiting Jim out.

In the end, Len's the one that pulls back so he can look Jim in the eye. "You don't have to try so hard, kid. You're already Jo's favorite dad."

"I just want her to have this," Jim says, voice soft.

And it finally sinks in. Jim's teen years were tumultuous at best. He wasn't fussed to attend school so it's highly unlikely that he went to his prom. Jim doesn't want that for Jo.

"Okay, darlin'. I won't be a grinch and ruin everything," Len offers. But he can't concede too easily. That'd make Jim suspicious. "But it'd be nice to see what we paid for," he grumbles.

Jim smiles. "You'll see it as soon as Jo tried it on," he says. "Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout, kid," Len huffs. But Jim's smiling, and that's all Len wants on any given day.

~~*~~

But this is Len's life and things don't usually go to plan, especially if Jim is involved. And Jo's dress is no exception. It turns out that somewhere along the way, a nine had gotten turned into a six and there was no way in hell Jo's rib cage can shrink enough to fit. Len tries to keep his thoughts to himself but he blurts out, "I don't like the back anyway, darlin'," thinking it'll help, but all he gets is Jo dissolving into tears and Jim glaring at him before he follows after Jo.

The dog's even glaring up at Len, and he shrugs, saying, "What? I thought I was helpin'!"

The next couple of days are tense and Len tiptoes around the elephant in the room. He tries offering advice while in bed curled around Jim who's muttering under his breath while furiously flipping through pages on his PADD. Len gets shot down before he can draw a breath. Frustrated, he turns over and switches off the light, not that it deters Jim. Len sighs and finally dozes off with Jim still upright beside him. He dreams of tuxedos and ridiculously expensive dresses, none of which fit anyone except the dog while the neighbor's cat wears a white a tux.

~~*~~

Over breakfast and after coffee, thank god, he learns from Jim's too casual conversation that he and Jo had visited a local seamstress. But there's no way to add three centimeters to the complicated high waisted dress. And there's just no way for Jo to shrink to fit short of disfiguring surgery that no one is contemplating. Len's glare makes sure that option is off the table without it being brought up.

This is also when Len learns that they ordered yet another dress. He barely keeps from spitting out his coffee. "So how has this saved us any money?" he asks, trying to keep his voice level. He's not a cheap bastard, but he was raised by his nan, a Georgia farm girl from humble beginnings. "Couldn't we have gotten a custom dress _here_ for what this is costing?"

Jim sighs and glares at Len, his eyes flicking to the doorway.

Len wants to swear because of _course_ Jo'd hear him bitching.

"I do have a job, Daddy! I'll pay you back!" she snaps.

She grabs an apple and is out the door before Len can apologize.

"Smooth move," Jim murmurs.

And that is just a bridge too far. The tension is driving him crazy and he can't figure out what he's done to warrant all the ire aimed his way.

"Dammit, Jim! I'm not the enemy here!" he snaps.

Jim's eyes widen, then he slumps. When he finally meets Len's eyes, he's a bit sad and a lot rueful. "Sorry, babe," he says, tone remorseful. "Got a bit caught up in all this."

"A bit?" Len snorts, but he can't for the life of himself stay mad at a truly repentant Jim, especially when he's looking at Len with wide blue eyes from under lowered lashes. He's a goddamned _menace._ But he's _Len's_ menace and Len knew what he was getting into the first time he’d kissed Jim.

"Sorry?" Jim offers, and Len relents, leaning over to kiss his husband.

"Just don't beat me up for not knowing what the hell is going on in my own damn house."

"Deal," Jim says and Len leans in for that kiss. It tastes a lot like forgiveness and even more of _home._

~~*~~

Len catches Joanna on a rare free evening and they have dinner, just the two of them. Len's struck by just how mature and so damn smart his little girl is. She's got her head on straight, far beyond anything he'd been capable of at her age.

He marvels and listens, keeping his mouth closed for a change. And for the first time in far too many years, Joanna's actually talking to him, confiding all the details of the 'will he, won't he' teen drama that surrounds her 'on again, off again' romance with Enrique, a young man a year ahead of Jo. He's now a command-track cadet at the Academy and flighty as all get out, which gets Len's hackles up, but he manages to keep from blurting that out.

Jim knows the boy, has him in a class, but Len doesn't hold a high opinion of the young man, so it's all the more surprising when Jo admits that she's hoping he'll go to the prom with her. Len had, thankfully, been kept from sticking his foot in his mouth, but he does think, _'What in the hell is wrong with this boy?_ He decides that Jim needs to have a talk with this Cadet Badia.

When he asks Jim to talk to the boy, Jim just shakes his head and smiles fondly at Len.

"What? Seems like a reasonable question to determine his intentions!" Len blurts out, oddly defensive.

"Bones," Jim says, lips doing that half smile that means he's humoring Len. "Jo's got it covered."

"What? How? We just talked!" Len protests.

There's that same smile again, just wider, more amused and fond. It's damned infuriating is what it is. Especially because Len can't hold onto his irritation in the face of Jim's stupid smile.

"Babe, Jo-Jo is nearly eighteen and _your_ daughter, you suspicious bastard. No boy is getting the best of her. Not even an incredibly bright, command track cadet."

Len nods in the face of Jim's certainty. Doesn't mean he's not going to do a little pre-emptive information gathering. What Jim and Jo don't know won't get Len sent to the doghouse.

~~*~~

Len should have known better. He's a doctor, not a spy, and really, what had he been thinking?

Jim's got his arms crossed over his chest and is giving Len his best 'disappointed captain' glare.

There's just something very wrong with Len being made to feel like a misbehaving school boy, but he crosses his arms over his chest and refuses to capitulate. So they're stuck in a very childish, ridiculously silent stare-off.

Len's lip does not curl up in satisfaction when Jim cracks first. 

"Dammit, Bones!"

But he does allow himself a secretive smile when Jim's back is turned.

"I'm not sorry, kid."

"You're just lucky that Jo has no clue."

"I'm not about to apologize for talking to that idiot."

Jim stops immediately in front of Len, his furious pacing giving way to a coolness belied by the warmth radiating off Len's husband. Len's coldly angry husband. "You didn't just talk to him, Bones. You terrified him. You nearly _threatened_ him."

"I--" Len tries to defend himself, but Jim cuts him off with a hard snap of his head.

"Bones," he says, anger bleeding into frustration. " _Babe_ ," he emphasizes. "Enrique Badia is a promising cadet. He also happens to be an eighteen year old boy. He's not a criminal mastermind. He's not manipulative. He's not a stalker. He's not any of the things you've built him up to be."

Jim takes a breath and Len tries to speak up, but is cut off once again.

"Don't."

Len deflates in the face of Jim's disappointment.

"I should file a report. At least put it in your record your inappropriate access of a cadet's records."

Len opens his mouth to apologize but Jim keeps talking. "I _should._ And it would serve you right to have to explain yourself to Boyce. I'd even enjoy being a fly on the wall to see it."

Oh, Jim is _pissed._

"But I don't think that would stop you. And you call _me_ a menace." Jim huffs out a breath, his warmth fading from Len as he plops into a chair. He tilts his head back, gorgeous blue eyes squeezing closed as though he couldn't look at Len any longer. And, oh that _cuts._

"Jim--"

"Nope. I don't want to hear it." He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry," Len tries.

"Bullshit." Jim opens his eyes and there he is: the commanding, hard-edged captain, those sky blue eyes cold as deep space. "You're not. You're an overprotective asshole and you don't trust me or Jo to be able to take care of ourselves. This isn't the first time it's gotten you in trouble."

"But--"

"Don't _even._ I handled it. I soothed the boy, urged him to talk to Jo, and promised that no avenging angel in the form of one pissed off Southern doctor would ever darken his quarters again."

"I wasn't in--"

"Stop it. I'm tired and I'm pissed. And I know _you._ I don't expect to get through that thick head of yours, so I don't know why I bother, but I'm going to repeat this one more time: I love you. Jo loves you. You've done a good job raising that daughter of yours. But you have to let her live her life, Bones. You have to let her make her own mistakes. You can't wrap her in cotton or keep her locked in the house. That's not living." He stood, his glare less hard, warmer, but no less exasperated. "I'm going for a run to clear my head. You… you should… I don't know. Call Spock or something."

"Hey! There's no need for cruel and unusual punishment!"

Jim steps close, presses their lips together in the briefest of touches. "You're an ass and I can't get through to you, but Nyota can. She'll straighten you out. You call her and then we'll be even, babe," he whispers, breath warm against Len's cheek.

And Len might want to argue, but he can't. He doesn't do these things to be an ass. He just can't help a fierce protectiveness that wells in him when he thinks someone he loves might be hurt. Jocelyn hadn't appreciated that tendency anymore than Jim or Jo.

He sighs, willing to accept whatever Jim wanted him to do in order to get back into his good graces. "I'll call. Thanks, kid. For not telling Jo." That was the important thing. Len hates it when Jo is angry at him. And he honestly doesn't give a rat's ass about his record, but it's best if Boyce isn't furious at him, either.

"Bastard," Jim says, but he's wrapping his arms around Len and kissing him. And the term probably fits a little too well for Len to argue.

~~*~~

After that, things settle. The air clears and no one's walking on eggshells. It's calm in a way that he should be suspicious of, but Len likes routine and likes it when his family is happy and work isn't melting down around his ears. He nearly forgets that the prom is coming.

Of course, that's when the shit hits the fan. It's always when Len is least expecting it. The fates, or karma, or what have you, love to wallop Len upside the head when he's getting complacent.

And the arrival of Jo's second dress kind of feels like an elbow to the celiac plexus. He is learning, though. He manages to keep his mouth shut, doesn't let the hammering of his heart or the way his lungs constrict give way to his usual snide retort. Instead he swallows, takes a deep slow breath as Jo twirls in delight. His little tomboy is all grown up and far too beautiful for anyone, let alone a punk-ass first-year cadet who can't begin to appreciate her. His eyes mist up and just for a moment he sees four-year old Jo wearing a pink and purple princess dress, his nan's pearls around her neck as she tottered on Joce's heels.

"Daddy?" Jo's voice pulls Len back to the here and now. "You okay?"

His baby girl is smiling up at him, her hair in a messy bun, cheeks smudged with pink.

He swipes at his eyes like they're tired from a long day. Jim snorts from over her shoulder so Len knows he's caught. "I'm fine, sweetpea. You look mighty fine. Reminds me of your princess dress."

A brief quizzical frown mars her carefree smile before she tilts her head at Len. "You mean the poofy one I wore out when I was four?" She sounds more amused than horrified, so Len calls it a win as he nods.

"Sap," Jim mutters at Len.

Len ignores him.

"I think you'll have swarms of boys eating out of your hands, Jo Bear," Jim says to Jo.

"I don't need everyone, Jim," Jo says as she rolls her eyes.

"Just Enrique. I know, kiddo."

Len's looking between them. "What?" he asks, confused. "I thought it was a done deal? You, the boy, two other couples, and a limo?" he clarifies because the plans often change without him having a clue.

Jim's eyes widen and he starts waving at Len behind Jo's back.

Len's eyes narrow. "What happened?" he asks again.

Jo huffs a breath, then glances at Jim. "I can see your reflection, you know."

Jim stutters at being caught. He is usually more subtle.

"Jo?" Len prods. "Not gonna push, but maybe I can help?"

Jim smacks his palm to his face and for a brief moment Len wishes he'd hit himself harder.

"Don't worry, Daddy. A lot of the guys are being jerks about the prom. And Enrique's gotten cold feet," she says. "That's all."

"You need me to talk to him?" He doesn't mean anything by the low rumble that accompanies his question.

"No!" Jim and Jo blurt out.

Jo raises an eyebrow at Jim and the glance is like looking in a mirror. "No, Daddy. I got this." Her tone is calm, assured, and soothing; Len's being managed.

But before he can reply, Jim pipes up, "We know, Jo. Sorry for prying. Now you better go hang that up so it doesn't get wrinkled."

"Right." She leans over and kisses Jim on the cheek before turning to Len. She wraps her arms around him and Len grabs tight.

"Love you, darlin'. If that boy can't figure out what he's missing, you're better off knowing now."

Jo chuckles and shakes her head, giving Len a small smile. "I know that. Doesn't mean that I don't want to go with him anyway."

"Well, either way, it'll all work out for the best, baby girl."

She kisses his cheek before stepping away. "Thanks, Daddy."

Then she's gone. Here one minute, gone the next.

Jim wraps his arms around Len from behind and Len sinks in the embrace. "You done good, babe," he breathes and Len gives a little shiver.

He's nowhere near good at parenting a teen, but with Jim's support, he might be figuring it out, just a bit.

~~*~~

The next couple of weeks are busy as hell and Len loses track of time thanks to rotating shifts and idiot cadets and overly zealous captains. He's bleary eyed and grumpy when he arrives home after an extended overnight shift only to bump into Jo as she's racing out the door.

"Where are you going? Isn't it Saturday?"

"Yes, Daddy! I have a 5K Color Run!" she shouts over her shoulder as she barrels down the steps, straight into her best friend's, Lien's, hovercar. Why any parent would get their teen a new hovercar is beyond him.

He feels Jim come up behind him, leans into the strong body before turning to steal his coffee.

Jim's outraged, "Hey!" makes Len's smile.

Len meets his eyes over the mug. He watches Jim pout, strong arms crossing over his chest. He looks good enough to eat in faded t-shirt and rumpled sweats. Jim plumps up under Len's regard and Len grins, handing him back the empty cup. "I'm gonna hit the shower then the bed."

Jim blinks. "I don't even get a kiss? Or even a goddamned good morning?"

Len contemplates the lure of his bed, he's so damned tired his brain's barely firing on one cylinder, but he grins at Jim, tugs him forward by tucking his fingers into the waistband of his sweats. Despite Jim's epic pout, he comes forward and leans into the kiss which Len makes as hot, heavy, and dirty as he possibly can.

Jim sighs, sagging against Len when he pulls back. "Morning, darlin'."

"Morning, Bones," he breathes.

"Mind telling me what in the hell Jo's up to?"

Jim chuckles, but just rests his head on Len's shoulder. "She told you."

"Sure she did. Told me the absolute truth while not telling me a damn thing. What the hell's a color run?"

"It's a thing. Like a race. Kind of?" 

Jim's answer is less than convincing. "You don't know, do you?"

He shrugs and Len shakes his head. "Fine. Whatever. I guess we can hear about it over dinner. Now I'm gonna--"

"Dinner?" Jim pulls away and looks at Bones like he's grown an extra eye in his forehead, not that Len is familiar with any such nonsense, though it'd been a near thing on Optinaria.

"What?"

"Bones. The prom is tonight."

"Then why in the hell is my daughter off to some race?"

Jim shrugs again and rolls his eyes. 

"I am too tired to deal with this. Wake me when she's back, k?"

Jim kisses Len, just a quick peck that still manages to make Len sink into the feeling. "Got it, babe. And yeah, I suggest you do shower. Otherwise you'll make the bed smell like the medbay."

"Well what do you expect? I _work_ in medical!" But Len's grousing falls on deaf ears since Jim's already halfway to the kitchen intent on more coffee.

~~*~~

Len wakes to Jim's swearing filtering out from the bathroom. He sits up and looks through the open door to see Jim pulling bottles out of the cabinet. "Darlin'?" Len calls, voice still creaky from sleep. "What're you doin'?"

Jim jerks his head, shoulders drooping. "Dammit, babe. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Len glances at the clock. It's nearly four, he's slept too long as it is. Stretching, he turns and drops his feet to the floor. "You were supposed to wake me earlier," he chides, voice gentle. As he stands he sees that Jim has pulled nearly every bottle out of their medicine cabinet and from under the sink. He leans against the door, lips twitching upward at Jim's appearance. He's frazzled, hair spiking everywhere like he'd been running his fingers through it. He's still wearing the sweats and t-shirt from earlier and his feet are bare. It's a ridiculously endearing sight, the impervious Captain Kirk looking so disheveled and vulnerable.

"Not sorry," Jim mumbles, then reaches into the back of the cabinet. He looks at the bottle and swears. "Don't we have any hydrogen peroxide?"

Len nods. "Probably. Maybe. Why?"

"Jim! What's taking so long!" Jo calls out from their bedroom door. "Daddy!" she blurts out, surprised.

When Len turns to look at Jo, he can't form words as he gazes at her from head to toe. Her dark blonde hair is curled into ringlets draping over her shoulder and down her back with one side done up in some sort of elaborate braid held in place by glittering combs. She's wearing sweats and an old flannel shirt of Jim's and Len can't wrap his head around the contrast between her ornate hair and vid-ready makeup with the shabby clothes.

Len's eyes stop when they rest on Jo's bare feet. Her decidedly _green_ bare feet and toes. "What the hell happened?"

From Jo's wide eyes and sheepish smile, he knows he's not getting an answer from that quarter. "Jim?"

Jim comes to stand by Len, a warm hand sliding around Len's back before he rests his chin on Len's shoulder. "I guess that color run thing had a bit more… color to it than Jo'd planned. Right, Jo Bear?"

"I was wearing socks! And shoes!" She glares at Len, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now are you gonna help me or not?"

Len purses his lips to keep from laughing, but Jim doesn't bother hiding his amusement. He chuckles as he straightens. "C'mon, girl. Let's at least try more soap and water."

"Daaaaa-dy!" she wails. "I tried soap and water. Jim scrubbed my feet until I thought I wasn't gonna have any skin left! Can't you do something?"

Len's tempted, just for an instant, to allow his daughter to live with the consequences of trying to shove too much into too little time, but he knows he can no more resist that pout than he can resist Jim's.

In the end, her toes remain a tiny bit green tinted, but the rhinestone studded straps of her black heels conceal most of the stains Len couldn't remove.

And before he's ready, _that_ boy arrives at the door carrying a corsage and looking like a lamb being led to the slaughter before Jim steps in and smooths everything over. Who'd have imagined that brash and reckless Jim Kirk had it in him to be a diplomat? He even makes a damn good vidographer; takes some formal holos and manages to sneak some surprising candids. One, in particular, startles Len when he sees it. Jim caught a moment when he was smiling, wide and bright, his customary glower gone. He had been struck dumb by Jo; she was so beautiful and all grown up, like a real life princess and he couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed at her date.

Then silence overtakes the house as Jo and Enrique sweep out and step into the fancy rented hoverlimo. Len glares after the retreating vehicle until Jim tugs him back into the house.

"I gave her the money, Bones," Jim says.

Len blinks, takes a minute to catch up. "Oh. Oh! How'd you know--"

"How'd I know that my husband is a cheap bastard who would have suggested the shuttle?"

Len blushes.

Jim just smiles and kisses Len. "I know you."

"Yeah, you do. I wonder--"

"Don't finish that sentence," Jim scolds. "I love you just the way you are, you grumpy bastard."

With that, Len can't help himself if he pulls Jim tight and kisses him hard, holding him in place by the hips as he shows Jim just how grateful he is that Jim puts up with him.

When they break apart, Jim is badly mussed, nearing debauched and _that_ gives Len an idea. "Hey, Jo's got no plans to be home tonight, does she?" he murmurs in Jim's ear.

Jim swallows and nods.

"Then I suggest we take advantage of that fact, darlin'."

"Hell, yes!" Jim says, then races toward the bedroom, a trail of clothes in his wake.

 _'And just think,'_ Len muses as he picks up after Jim as he makes his way forward. _'Once Jo's off to college, we'll be able to christen every room in the house.'_

"Bones!" Jim shouts. "I'm starting without you!"

It's an empty threat, but Len's stripping off his shirt and stepping out of his sweats as he crosses the threshold.

The End

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** This fills my cotton candy bingo square -- _ball/dance/prom._ Title from Joni Mitchell's "Sweet Sucker Dance" as suggested by hitlikehammers. Of course she did. Thank you, my own personal title-whisperer. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** These are Paramount and Roddenberry's characters used in the spirit of creative commons. I promise to return them with smiles on.


End file.
